


It Fucks With Your Honor

by OkProblematic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst I guess, M/M, Mates, Mentions of knotting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:22:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OkProblematic/pseuds/OkProblematic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me.” Stiles blinks as his voice wavers, honey eyes shining with hurt and unshed tears, “It hurt you too, you know.”</p><p>Derek swallows and scratches at the scruff on his chin. He kind of wants to drown himself in Stiles’ eyes but he thinks it may just end up being like drowning in caramel and he’s not one for sticky situations. “I know. But – “</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Fucks With Your Honor

**Author's Note:**

> First okay work in the fandom. Sorry if it sucks.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just tell me.” Stiles blinks as his voice wavers, honey eyes shining with hurt and unshed tears, “It hurt you too, you know.”

Derek swallows and scratches at the scruff on his chin. He kind of wants to drown himself in Stiles’ eyes but he thinks it may just end up being like drowning in caramel and he’s not one for sticky situations. “I know. But – “

“But what, Derek?! What were you so worried about? You deserve to be happy too!” The wolf meets his eyes, soft hazel on gooey gold, the trees and their bark, one carefully holding the other up. Stiles is hurt, it’s evident in his eyes and quiet voice, shaking around the longer words.

Derek wants to know why he hurts. He wants to know if it was because something was withheld from him that probably should not have been; he wants to know if it’s because the people he trusted didn’t tell him. Mostly, he wants to know if it was because Scott knew or if it was something Derek did.

“I was afraid.” He swallows quickly, fights the feeling of wanting to flee and watches as Stiles fish mouths, pretty pink lips opening and closing quickly as he tries to find words. “I was afraid of how young you are,” Stiles opens his mouth to protest but Derek holds a hand up and Stiles looks away, “and that you wouldn’t feel the same. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything. I wanted you to go to college and have a life outside of Beacon Hills, Stiles.”

“I can still do all of that, even if we’re together. But we’ve already gotten past this. Derek, we’ve been dating for a while now and – and you didn’t tell me and you should have. I just – why?” He sighs shakily and Derek thinks his heart is going to shrivel in his chest, become nothing but a piece of useless muscle and just drop to his stomach, cage of bone be damned.

“I didn’t want you to feel trapped – like if we did this that you had to stay. Stiles, this goes so much deeper than just being boyfriends. There’s a lot more to it – “

Stiles cuts him off, “I know that, Derek,” he swallows carefully and Derek braces himself, for what, he’s not sure, “I looked it up and talked to Deaton because – because I wasn’t sure if it was me. I mean, I had heard of it and then you didn’t say anything about it, I – I thought you were just settling because you couldn’t find your mate – and then this happens and –“ Stiles stops himself, cutting off mid sentence in an effort to at least try and sound like more than a vulnerable kid.

His cheeks are pleasantly flushed, red creeping down his neck and up to his ears, too. Stiles looks tired, sad purple bags under his eyes, barely there and messy hair that he hasn’t stopped running his fingers through yet. It reminds Derek of the Nogitsune and everything it put them through, even if it was the reason they got together. It took Stiles nearly dying again for Derek to drop the words mate, my pretty pretty mate. He hopes that one day it won’t take near-death experiences for him to say what he needs to.

“Stiles, I – of course it’s you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, okay? I was so worried about everything and I didn’t even know how. I’m sorry.” Derek hopes Stiles can’t see the flush of his own cheeks.

Stiles knows it’s hard for Derek to talk like this, knows that it’s hard for him to apologize and Derek is looking at him a bit helplessly, so worried about upsetting his mate that even without weird werewolf shit Stiles can feel it. They’re both pretty hurt, Stiles guesses, because he knows that it’s painful knowing that they didn’t tell him, even after he and Derek started dating and he knows it must kill Derek to not be all over him all of the time.

But he gets it now, he does, and so he opens his arms and lets Derek find his way into them, big hands tight where they wrap around Stiles’ waist. His words are nothing more than a quiet murmur, but he knows Derek can hear them, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, Derek. Just – will you tell me things next time?” Derek nods furiously against him and Stiles hugs him as tight as he can, long, pale arms wrapped around the wolf’s shoulders.

Derek picks him up then, one hand sliding up his spine and the other hooked under his ass. Stiles doesn’t squeal, he just doesn’t, no nope. (He does, actually, and the sound makes Derek smile even if it is right by his ear). He’s got his face tucked into Stiles’ neck as he walks, stiffing deeply and grumbling happily at the scent of syrup and pancakes and Stiles.

He drops Stiles on the bed, their bed, and crawls in next to him, sticks his nose back in the dip between Stiles’ shoulder and neck. “Are you finally going to get in my pants?” He sounds so hopeful and Derek huffs out a breath against the skin in front of him.

“No, Stiles, not until you’re eighteen. There’s still more we need to talk about because I’m sure you’ve got a million and one questions.”

“Then why are we in bed? We could talk in, like, the kitchen or something.” Stiles is something else and really, only Derek would be in love with this idiot.

He flushes deep pink anyways, “The bed stopped smelling like you a week ago. I don’t like it.” He makes a vague waving gesture and Stiles clicks his tongue quietly before chuckling, grin breaking free on his face.

“So, you, like want me to roll all over this then?” Stiles waits for an answer before not getting on and instead adding, “Or do you want me to roll all over you? Because I can totally do that. I could do both actually. I could happily do both.”

“No.” Derek groans and throws an arm over Stiles to keep him as still as possible before rubbing his face all over Stiles’ neck while he pretends to gag, but Derek can smell the happiness radiation off of him.

They’re quiet for all of thirty seconds before, “So I’m your mate?” He waits for Derek’s grunt before continuing, “What does it feel like? Like, I know there’s no official bond yet, so we’re not, like, werewolf married, but like, you know?”

Derek waits to make sure Stiles is going to only ask one question at a time, “It’s odd, actually. I mean, I feel like I’m tied to you and everything you do is amplified to me. It burns, too, when I touch you, like right now, my entire side is on fire, but it’s a good fire, I guess. This feel right, like it’s natural.”

“The burning thing is mutual, dude. Like same. Alright so, looking this shit up probably wasn’t very accurate, so bare with me, is knotting a thing you do?”

Stiles had since rolled over, hiding his own face in Derek’s chest, one hand fisted in the soft fabric of Derek’s shirt, the warmth of the room and the familiarity of being in Derek’s arms again making him sleepy, “Yeah. I mean, supposedly, it’s a thing I do. Never done it before ‘cause it’s only supposed to happen with your mate and we haven’t done that yet.”

“Oh,” Stiles pretty pink lips open wide as he yawns, “We should get on that.”

Derek pulls him impossibly closer, “Not until you’re eighteen.”

Stiles whines, “Why? Can I get pregnant or something?”

“I don’t know if you can. Also, it’s illegal.”

“Right we – wait you don’t know? Does that mean it’s a possibility?”

Derek shrugs the best he can with Stiles on top of him, “Maybe. We’ve got time to ask Deaton and stuff, Stiles. Go to sleep.”

Stiles pouts, even though Derek can see how tired he really is, “Not until you kiss me.”

The wolf laughs quietly and tilts the younger’s chin up and kisses him, slow and deep. He’d missed the feeling of Stiles’ thin lips against his and so this, it feels like coming home. It feels like he’s finally able to breathe and it tastes like the sugary sweet pancakes his mom used to make on Sunday mornings.

They’ve still got a lot of things to talk about, like how Stiles should not be allowed to run in front of things with magic powers, ever, no matter what, because Derek is not about to lose his mate. But they’ll talk about those things in the morning, after they’ve both slept properly for the first time in weeks.

**Author's Note:**

> Also bottombitchboys on tumblr. Comments and stuff are loved!


End file.
